But Lapis had always been willing to play along, no matter how silly the rules of the games she and Kyrie made up. So he swept across the room and settled gracefully beside Glint, offering a bejeweled hand with all the grandeur of a fairy tale prince.
Sapphire eyes sparkling, he drawled, “Hello, sealed girl.”
FORTY-SEVEN
Likeness
Reveille escorted Kyrie through dense forest, skirting two mountains before slowing to stroll into a clearing ringed by camouflaged tents. Battlers and Kith alike noted their arrival, and Kyrie eased closer to Reveille, hiding in his shadow.
Lifting his arm to shoot a quizzical glance, Reveille asked, “Nervous?”
Kyrie chose a different word. “Wary.”
“No use hiding behind me.”
“Perhaps.” Improbable as it sounded, even passing a few paces from their seats around three cookfires, most of the battlers wouldn’t notice him. It was a useful trick. One his father had strongly suggested he keep quiet.
There were limits, of course. And proof of them stepped out of a netting-draped canopy.
It had been years since Torloo left Japan, but he hadn’t changed. In fact, he looked younger than Kyrie remembered, but that was probably because he was getting taller while Torloo was not. The gap in their ages was closing. Kyrie was quickly catching up, and that was incredibly comforting. He and his friend would go through their adolescence together.
“Kyrie?” Torloo’s nose was working almost as hard as his tail. “I know you are here.”
Wolves weren’t much for subtlety. Reluctantly, Kyrie stepped into plain sight. “Here.”
Even though Kyrie had seen Torloo the night Sinder was injured, Torloo hadn’t seen him. Because Kyrie hadn’t wanted to be seen or stopped. When he was littler, it had confused him that, despite the Elderbough trackers’ impressive reputation, they were so easy to elude. He didn’t like to mention it. Back then, he hadn’t wanted to hurt their feelings. Now, it was just another trick he knew better than to mention.
Torloo darted forward so fast, Kyrie barely had time to open his arms before he was scooped into a spinning hug.
Reveille stood watching them with arms folded. “I take it you’re acquainted?”
“We are friends,” corrected Torloo.
All around the camp, reavers looked on with openly curious stares.
“When did he …?”
“Isn’t that …?”
“Notice his eyes?”
“Didn’t the briefing say …?”
And over and over, two words cycled—dragon and rogue. Before Kyrie could ask what the battlers meant, Torloo held up a hand, signaling for silence, just as Timur and Mikoto arrived on Fend. Sinder stalked into the clearing, commanding attention.
Timur dismounted and immediately herded Kyrie and Torloo toward the canopy. “Sinder will talk to you, explain his plan for the morning,” he told Torloo. “I’ll fill in the rookies while they finish their breakfasts. Yes?”
“Yes. Thank you,” said Torloo, who looped an arm around Kyrie and ushered him the rest of the way out of the limelight.
A ward shimmered faintly as they ducked past netting. Kyrie resisted the urge to inspect it closely, but he could tell it was Timur’s handiwork. And that its primary function was dampening sound.
Although there were padded benches off to the sides, the canopy’s main furnishing was a central table. Maps and lists covered its surface, their corners weighed down by an interesting jumble of stones—some rough, some smooth, some crystal.
Kyrie scanned the maps idly until he recognized the lake where they’d bathed and swapped stories. Orienting himself on that landmark, he quickly made sense of the rest and frowned. There was more to the Denholm range than he’d realized.
“Brother told me you would be at camp.” Torloo placed a finger on the map, indicating Wardenclave’s song circle. “My responsibilities kept me from seeking you out.”
“Nobody told me.” Kyrie shyly admitted, “I would have come sooner.”
Torloo glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “And I would have asked Timur to speak on my behalf.”
Kyrie couldn’t contain a pleased trill. It was good to have friends.
Touching another map, Kyrie skimmed a neighboring list. “You are training battlers?”
“Yes. Brother chose these battlers for their potential as trackers.”
“And you are their teacher?”
“They are learning basic skills.” Torloo began to gather up loose pages. “I will send them to my brothers before long.”
Kyrie took a step back and courteously averted his eyes. Torloo hadn’t said anything, but his body language made it obvious—at least to Kyrie—that there were secrets strewn across the table. He only felt a little guilty at mentally reviewing the information he’d already acquired.
Poison.
Sway.
Camouflage.
Ambush.
Torloo appeared to be teaching these battlers about tracking dragons. And Sinder was obviously helping them, which is why he’d been injured. But … was it only tracking? The equipment lists included a terrifying spectrum of offensive sigilcraft, hypodermic darts, and crystal tagging.
If these were battler games, they were extremely dangerous ones.
Why would the Elderboughs be hunting dragons?
Timur batted his way past the netting and offered a gruff greeting. Fend shadowed his steps and disappeared under the table.
Torloo took a receptive posture and asked, “Is there more to this than the reunion of friends?”
“Yes.” Kyrie summed up his desire to be assessed, then asked, “Where is Reveille?”
“Waiting outside,” said Timur. “He doesn’t need to know everything in order to keep you safe. I can’t tell you everything, either, but no one can question my right to talk about myself.”
Kyrie stood a little straighter and positioned his hands to promise secrecy.
Timur dropped to one knee before him, putting them more on a level. “To be clear, your Dad knows about me, as do Mum and Papka. But I don’t think Ginkgo has all the particulars. Just what he’s gleaned from watching me with Sinder. And neither do any of my siblings except Annika.”
Annika was the sister right above Lilya. Like Timur, she held a battler’s classification and had gone away to study with Aunt Sansa’s people. That had to be part of the secret.
“My battler training upholds a longstanding family tradition. I specialize in dragons.”
Kyrie didn’t even try to hide his astonishment. “Like me?”
“Too right.” Timur caressed Kyrie’s hair. “Having you in my family helped me choose my courses.”
It had never occurred to Kyrie that he could have brought his questions to someone besides Lapis. Like a dragon specialist. “You know things about me?”
“Not as much as Sinder, but more than most.” Timur’s expression gentled. “Sorry to keep something so important from you.”
“I was little.” Kyrie’s heart thumped in anticipation of future conversations. “I have grown.”
“As has my trust.”
Which may have been the highest compliment Timur could have paid.